


cuts and bruises

by pills_s



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Consent, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Fights, I FOUND OUT THAT NO LESBIANS DIE IS A TAG, M/M, Painplay, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), dream calls him slut like once i think, handjobs, i don’t exactly remember what i wrote, i think, ive forgotten how to tag, like is that an ongoing problem going on in fics XD, no beta we die like ranboos sanity levels, sexy sexy consent, that’s like the whole point of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:08:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29678205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pills_s/pseuds/pills_s
Summary: george purposefully gets into fights because he likes to get hit.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 143





	cuts and bruises

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, it’s me again. i’ve been working on this for about a week and that’s only because i’m lazy and procrastinating is the bane of my existence. i have a lot of ideas to write about, cause i surprisingly like writing, so i will be doing more of these smut one shots cause i’m already going to hell, why not dig my grave deeper? also, i will be taking requests if any of you guys want to comment any suggestions or prompts i’ll try any write one as quick as i can. anyways, please enjoy and happy reading :)

(slight sewer slide warning)  
  


“you’re worthless, kill yourself nerd.” he spits at the beatnened up boy on the ground, the liquid landing on his cheek. he laughs to his friends and they walk away, leaving george on the floor, bruised up and hard.

this is his third fight this week. george has tried in his every will to pick a fight with someone, ‘accidently’ bumping into someone, flirted with someone’s girl (even though he’s very much gay) or even just straight up punching someone in the face. george knows he’ll lose. he loses every time. not only because he lets it happen but also because he’s physically weaker and smaller than most. but he loves it.

he loves the way someone so big hurts and controls him, like he’s nothing more than a punching bag. he loves the bruises he has the next day, the scratches, the redness. he loves the pain someone's punch brings to his face, making his head slightly dizzy and his face throb. he basks in it all. and although he loves getting hit for some strange reason unknown to even him, there’s someones who’s quite worried for him.

his best friend dream.

“why can’t you just go at least a week without getting in a fight? you’re always bruised up and i have to take care of it.” george shys away from the ointment dream is applying to his wound, wanting the bruises there on his cheek. he loves looking at them, like someone’s marked him.

“it’s fine dream, it doesn’t hurt.” george says nonchalantly, knowing full well it hurts like hell and is trying to calm down his growing boner.

“it doesn’t hurt?” dream pushes at one of his bruises, earning a sort of whimper slash whine from george, who turns bright red after. dream seems oblivious that this is turning him on, and it passes over his head as a painful whine.  
  


“see? that hurts.” he rolls his eyes, annoyed, but you can still see that he’s very worried and concerned for his hurt friend.

-

dream has been taking extra precautions to be near george at all time, making sure he doesn’t get himself into a fight and so no one tries to fight him. dream was a large guy. broad shoulders, tall stature, intense eyes and overall just an intimidating aura. maybe that’s why george likes dream so much, he’s very scary and could probably hurt him if he tried.

though, dream can’t be there at all times as they have a few classes without each other. dream warns george to stay in class, to stay out of people’s way. george says yes and almost immediately goes looking for trouble as he goes to the bathroom during class. 

he’s walking around when he sees his close friend, bad, getting picked on by the same guys who roughed him up a few days ago. perfect. 

of course there was a slight tinge of anger because they were bothering his friend, but he knew he could handle himself well. i mean, bad knows how to throw knives and goes to a shooting range, i think he’s fine.

“what’s going on here?” george walks up to them, slotting himself in between bad and schlatt. schlatt sucks his teeth at the sight of the short boy, snickering to his friends.

“it’s our little fairy, guys. back to get beat up again?”

“george just leave, i’ve got this.” bad tries to usher george away, knowing full well that the end result is george on the floor, bloodied up.

“no it’s fine, these guys are weak. i’ve felt way harder punches. these fuckers punch like little girls.” this was such a lame excuse for a lie. if anything, they were the strongest guys in the school. being 18, really tall, broad shoulders and not a care for anyone in the school really had its perks. not only that, he was infamous for his brown tims. he wouldn’t go anywhere without those boots on. the hard tip on the shoe making his kicks fatal, and the weight could probably break a bone if he wanted to. 

that may or may not be the reason why george starts something so often with him specifically.

schlatt and his two friends, ted and noah, all laugh in amusement, for obvious reasons. ted and noah were schlatt’s closest friends. ted, being even taller than schlatt, wasn’t as violent as schlatt was, but he was scary. he was either very passive aggressive or no one could even tell what he was thinking. he was a rock, unable to be shaken. fearless. noah, on the other hand, was a lot shorter, maxing out at around 5’9. but he was intimidating, and didn’t take bullshit from anyone, making him feared within the walls of the school. schlatt makes one last sound of amusement before stepping up to george, his eyes peering down lazily to the weak boy in front of him.

“this mother fucker thinks we’re weak. did our beatings give you brain damage or something ? you’re my own personal punching bag for me to let off some steam with. i’m weak? you really want to test that out?” bad was still trying to get george out of there, unknown to the real reason he wanted to be here. he wanted to bleed.

“try me, bitch.” schlatt takes a swing, and connects with george’s face powerfully. he stumbles as his back hits the wall behind him, bad making a noise of shock. george wipes the blood on his face that comes gushing out of his face beautifully. the punch was strong. it shook his head and made him a bit dizzy. his cheekbone was throbbing hotly, a heartbeat had started in cheek. it felt good, feeling himself grow just a bit harder.

  
no one ever noticed george’s problem during a fight, too caught up in the heat of things to even look there. it would be the death of him if anyone found out his secret he swore to keep hidden. if he’s being honest, he’s a bit shameful and almost disgusted with himself. disgusted with the fact that he gets turned on by the feeling of pain. disgusted that he could get hard from almost anyone that hits him, no matter who.

but when he’s getting hit, getting punched or even in his more indecent moments, when he’s on his hands and knees, stroking himself roughly as his other hand slaps himself on the ass with a hairbrush, those thoughts always become just a fleeting thought. just something he thought about one day. it wasn't important in those moments because it just felt so goddamn good. 

  
and george wanted more.

  
he smiles slightly before pushing himself off the wall and charging at schlatt, knocking him over at the force. no matter how much he liked getting hit, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. he still very much hated schlatt for various reasons, the constant picking on, the slurs, everything. maybe george brought it on himself but it didn’t matter, he still got to fight.

george topples him over, taking a seat on his chest before punching a total of 3 times before he’s thrown off to the side and schlatt doing the same. he’s really messing up george, his face is full of blood, his cheek is definitely going to showcase a gnarly bruise in a few hours. it was intoxicating, the pressure on his chest from where schlatt was sitting, the blows at his face, george was so hard and scared. it was exhilarating. schlatt gets off and kicks him once in the ribs before leaving, deciding he didn’t want to do too much damage, spotting a teacher through the window of a classroom. bad goes to his aid.

“george, why are you smiling? he just destroyed you, you muffinhead! are you okay? you shouldn’t have intervened, i had it covered.” he looks worried for his friend, thinking he’s in a lot of pain. and he’s not wrong, george is in a lot of pain. everytime he moves, he still feels the weight of the punches and kicks on him but he couldn’t be happier, the pain making his head fluffy and all there is is want.

  
“i’m fine, i wanted to help you.”

  
“oh my goodness, you’re helpless, you have to stop getting into fights, it could really damage your body.” he’s touching his wounds, careful not to press to hard and all george wants is him to press harder.

  
“okay that’s it, i’m calling dream and i don’t care if you don’t want to see him.” he runs away before george can stop him and he calls dream out of his class.

as much as george likes his friend, he really didn’t want dream to see him right now. he never likes for dream to see him like this, all hurt cause dream is beyond scared and worried whilst george loves the pain he’s receiving. also, he just can’t face dream after any of his fights because, let’s just say george has a very active imagination. he can’t deny in his more secretive, pleasurable moments, he wouldn’t imagine his best friend hurting him, breaking him as he pushes his body to the max. 

  
he would imagine dream slapping his face, spanking his ass hard until it’s a bright, angry red. he could pin his wrists to the wall with a bruising pressure, almost cracking them. he could even-

his fantasies are cut off when dream spots george sitting on the floor, his back is against the wall, his head is down and is leaning on one knee. george looks up, and dream makes a noise in shock. george has matching bruises, one on each cheekbone. there’s a bit of blood hanging low from his nose and he’s clutching his stomach, having been kicked a bit ago.

“george, what the fuck man? what happened? you look like shit. does it hurt, come here.” dream reaches over and takes the brunette in his hand, gently caressing his face. 

“i’m fine, dream. it’s okay.” george feels bad, making his best friend worry so dearly over something that shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

  
“come on george, i’ll talk to the principal to ask if you can leave school. i need to take care of this, i’m worried about you.”

“o-okay.” he takes the standing man’s outstretched hand, carefully bringing him to his feet. george needs to find a way to hide his growing boner, with every step, every little movement pains his stomach and he’s having a hard time stifling his moans.

“let’s go home.”

  
-

  
“hey george?” both boys are in dream’s house, with george sitting on dream’s bed and dream beside him, taking care of his wounds.

“yeah?”

“why do you keep getting into fights? why? i hate seeing you get hurt all the time.” he stops and looks into george’s eyes, he looks desperate, sad. now george feels guilty, he hates making his friend sad. but he can’t just tell him that he gets off from this stuff, he just can’t. next fight, he’ll make an effort to block his face and only get hit where clothes could hide.

  
“i’m sorry dream. i’ll try to stay out of trouble. but to be fair, a lot of people were coming up to me and bad was getting picked on. you think i’d leave my dear friend to deal with those “two and a half men?” they were called the two and a half men due to noah’s height difference in the trio.

“that’s because you kept on bothering them before! and bad can handle himself, he knows how to use a gun.”

“but-”

“no buts, and definitely no asses.” he said laughing a bit as he nudged george’s bum slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

  
“fine.” he hates lying to dream, but he can’t get over the insatiable feeling of getting hurt, he loves it too much. he needs more of it. maybe dream could even help.

they fell into a comfortable silence, dream applying very gentle pressure to his wounds. he places a bandaid on his roughed up cheek, pressing just a bit too hard than plan, earning a whine sort of moan out of george, who turns beet red. this, although, doesn’t seem to catch on for dream as he thinks he just hurt the boy and he made a noise in hurt rather than pleasure.

  
“shit, sorry george. i didn’t mean to. are you okay?” holy shit, he almost outed himself. dream better be careful or george is totally gonna ask him to punch him in the face.

“y-yeah, i’m fine.” george shifts his legs, so that his knees are propped up against his chest, hiding his problem down there.

“george, you can’t have your legs like that, i need to check your stomach.” trying to move his legs, dream is confused at the boys sudden redness and shyness. george has never really been shy about being this close to him before, what’s so different?

  
“no it’s fi-”

  
“george.” the sudden assertiveness makes george want to listen to him and puts his legs down, turning his head away and hoping somehow dream doesn’t notice. of course, george can’t get everything he wants as dream looks down at the hem of george’s shirt and catches notice of a very noticeable bulge between his legs.   
  
  
“i can explain, it just happ-”

  
“what made you get that?” george can’t decipher what dream is thinking. he doesn’t look mad, disgusted nor confused. he just has a sort of blank stare piercing into george’s brown eyes. it’s kind of intimidating.

  
“what?”

“why are you hard?”

“drea-”

  
“come on, tell me.” george doesn’t understand anything that’s going on right now. what’s dream thinking? why was he asking, and why was george willing to tell him without any sort of hesitation?

  
“you, you uh, you pressed on my bruise?” george looks away from dream, not able to keep his eyes on the taller one. this seems to diplease dream as he roughly grabs george’s chin to force him to look at him, george whimpering at the force.

  
“oh, you should know to always look at me when i talk to you, shouldn’t you? anyways, you got hard because i pressed on your bruise? what about it did you like?” dream now knowing full well why he liked it, as if the lack of distraught on george’s face after every fight didn’t prove it, this definitely did. he just wanted george to say it. he presses harder on george’s face, still a bit surprised when george’s eyes hit the back of his head for a bit, smiling slightly in disbelief. all dream can think is ‘i can’t believe he gets off from this. he looks so good.’ the desperation on george’s face from only gripping tightly at his face already has him already so needy.

dream loves this newfound power he now holds. it’s making his insecurities have a run for their money, only feeling confidence and strength, making his head a bit dizzy. he feels so fucking powerful. he feels like he could do anything and the boy below would let him.

  
“i, i liked the, the feeling.” now fully looking into dream’s eyes is making him see what dream is feeling; complete dominance. it’s a look george wants to look at forever, a drug george wants to get addicted to.

  
“how so?” dream reaches down to palm george’s hard on, a gasp of surprise coming from george’s mouth. was dream really okay with this?

“uh, i liked, the. the.” he can’t say it, too shameful. dream laughs, a sort of passive aggressive amusing laugh, almost mocking george. he presses down hard on george’s boner, hard, and george moans from the pain and restraint.

  
“just say it george.”

  
“the, uhn, the pain! i liked the pain.” dream is pressing unbelievably harder, as george tries to talk through choked moans. dream is pressing down so hard, his hand is so strong. the bruises he could make.

  
“ah, i see. so, what i’m getting at is, you wouldn’t mind if i do,” his voice is almost bored, lacking emotion as he trails off and pushes george down, pinning his wrist over his head hard, but not hard enough for george. 

  
“this?” george mutters something under his breath, dream not quite hearing what he said.

“what was that, georgie?”

  
“c-can you press harder on my wrists please?’ he looks desperate, he knows it himself. but he doesn’t care, dream seems to be on board with all of this and george couldn’t be more turned on.

  
dream laughs. “of course you’d want that. first, do you want this and i need words.” george looks directly into his eyes and can see that dream is matching his lust. dream wants this as much as george. he makes a small sound before answering his question. 

  
“yes. more than anything. do your worst.” dream takes that as confirmation, as he grips down hard at his wrists, digging his nails into pale skin. george moans just at the pure feeling of pain. he squeezes harder, and it hurts. it hurts like hell and george wants more.

“touch me, please! fuck, please touch me.” the pain from his bruise from the previous fight to dreams iron grip around his wrists, george is so hard and wants release so bad. he wanted dream to touch him, to hurt him, to step on him, to do anything.

  
dream doesn’t say anything, he just stares at him, not doing anything. had george taken it too far?

  
“d-dream?”

  
“oh, sorry. i was just admiring how good you look now, begging for me to touch you, to hurt you.”

  
“please, just touch me.” dream reaches down and presses down hard on the bruise on his face, george moans loudly, leaking hard.

  
“dr-AH, dream what, uhn, what are y-”

  
“i just want to show you how powerful i am, how powerless you are. you’re pathetic. begging for me, when you should know what your place is, and that’s below me. i want you to know that i’m in control, baby.” each word is sending tingly sparks through his veins, leaving him hot and red. each insult, the petname, the pain, it all makes his head go blank as he cums hard, thrusting a bit in the air as he rides out his high. he’s shaking, and his eyes never leave dreams as he cums. dream blushing slightly as he watches the boy under him cum, knowing that he did that without even touching him. his embarrassed state morphs into a state of disbelief and satisfaction, smug.

“my, my, my, would you look at that?”

“dr-dream, i’m sorry i couldn’t help it. you’re so good to me, so hot.” he’s already starting to get hard again, just at the pure fear of what dream could do to him, to ruin him, to hurt him. dream notices this instantly, the way george gets all fidgety after, the growing tent. dream quickly takes georges wet pants and underwear off, following with his shirt, revealing his half-hard cock, red and and leaking. now george is completely naked whilst dream is fully clothed. it makes him feel oh so small, but it turns him on so much.

  
he laughs. “i can’t believe it, you’re hard again. you’re really just a big slut aren’t you? just a little punching bag? would you like that? would you like me to touch you?” george looks away again, knowing it will displease dream and make him use force. he wants the punishment, cause he knows he can take it.

what can he say? he’s a greedy man.

  
dream reaches down to caress george’s hair carefully and lovingly, before yanking at the strands and pulling his head to face him. george looks at dream with a needy face, desperate eyes meeting dominant ones. he whines, wanting to get touched.

“you want to be touched, huh? you really want it?” pulling harder at the strands, he reaches under george’s shirt to stroke his other bruise, not pressing down to inflict pain.

  
“yes, so bad.”

  
“then beg for it like your life depended on it.”

and he did.

  
“please dream, oh god please. i need you to touch me, i need you to hurt me, to do something. i’ve been wanting you to do it for so long. i would t-touch myself while thinking of you, of your strength. w-would get into fights just to feel the pain, the bruises, and i’d i-imagine it was you. please, please oh please just touch me. hur-” his babbling is cut off dream reaches down and strokes george’s cock, earning a guttural cry of relief as he finally gets touched. 

contrary to his confident tone and presence he’s giving off, dream still gets flustered at the things george says and does. the way george came all because he dirty talked him, he was fully hard as well. he couldn’t think straight. 

at first, dream didn’t want to do this, too scared he might actually hurt george. but, hey, the boy likes the pain so he’s going to give him pain.

his strokes are fast, leaving the boy under him shaking and moaning loud. he’s tossing and whining and his head is tilt back, exposing his neck. 

“s-so good, you’re so-AH, good for me dream. fuck, faster, please.” george’s voice is breathy, too overtaken by the pleasure to talk properly as dream gets him off. his hand is big, wrapping the whole thing with just one hand, leaving the tip peaking out with every down stroke. george looks down to see dream is hard too, wanting so desperately to put it in his mouth.

“dream, dream please. hit me.”

“w-what.” his hand falters, setting a slower pace and george thrusting into the hand. he stares at him incredulously, he doesn't know if he can hit him. pressing on old bruises, gripping at his wrists, that’s about as far as he thinks he can go. but hitting him? 

  
dream is strong. with every fitted sweater or shirt, his muscles are faintly pressed up against the fabric, outlining strong arms. dream was on the football team so it was a given, but dream had always been a bit bigger than the rest, showing strength whilst even just holding a book. 

  
george would blush every time he’d watch one of dream’s games. seeing dream ram into opponents like he owns them, it made his head foggy, wanting the force the latter has. at the end of every game, dream would ask george how he did, and it would be the same answer every time, ‘really, really well.’

  
“i’m close, uhn, i’m so close. hit me. slap me please.” george is begging desperately, wanting his hand to hit him, wanting the redness.

  
“george,”

“please, i’m so close.”

“george i might hurt you.”

  
“i know. you will hurt me, you’ll hurt me so bad, i want it. please, let me cum. slap me.” dream’s hand has picked up the pace, george so close but is edging himself, wanting the hand.

  
“are you sure?”

“yes! yes ple-”

dream’s hand comes down to strike george on the cheek, a loud echo bouncing off the walls ever so slightly. the slap was strong, making george’s face instantly roar with pain, blood travelling to his cheek, the imprint of a hand prominent on his face. it was so strong that dream’s hand slightly hurt as well.

dream had turned away after doing it, almost not wanting to, unknown of what george was feeling. george had went silent, still trembling and thrashing. dream looks down to check on him, scared he went too far, and wow.

george eyes are blown wide, tears are streaming down his face in pleasure and is touching his own nipples. the tears making his slap mark sting a bit as a silent moan escapes his mouth. mouth wide open and george comes. probably the hardest he’s ever come. a loud moan gets ripped out of his throat as he quivers slightly, long ropes of white shooting out as he lets out a series of ‘dream, yes, thank you, so good dream, dream, dream.” and a series of curses. 

and all dream can do is stare. stare at this piece of art below him. he looks beautifully ruined. dream could stare all day.

dream bows down to kiss george on the forehead, as he smooths over the latter's tousled hair. 

“are you okay? did i hurt you bad?” he’s still a bit worried for the boy, wanting to know if he took it too far.

“yes, you did. it felt so good.” he smiles slightly, the sweet smile contradicting with his cuts and bruises, leaning into the hand in his hair.

“you little shit. okay, george, no more getting into fights. i’m right here ya know. i’ll beat you up whenever.” he follows with his dumb wheeze laugh.

“you’re such an idiot. my hero.” george rolls his eyes playfully, laughing along as well.

“your idiot though.” he remarks, winking overly flirtatious. 

  
  
  


“ew, get off of me simp.” they both laugh, and dream gets up to clean george

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so i totally memes around calling them the two and a half men XD sorry noah. but i changed the format a bit, and i hope you like it. i’m still wondering how far to space the paragraphs so they look good but idk. yeah like i said, i don't exactly remember what i wrote so it could very well be bad but idc. i just like to write and post. please eat and drink water and have a good day <3


End file.
